


I Love You, Honeybear

by doethae



Category: Far Cry 5, fc5 - Fandom
Genre: Drugs, F/M, NSFW, Smut, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:12:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doethae/pseuds/doethae
Summary: a john fic based off of the song I Love You, Honeybear by Father John Misty





	I Love You, Honeybear

**Author's Note:**

> listen to the song while you read or you’re weak

He was peculiarly fascinated with discerning her features following their… intertwining ceremonies. Dried blood smeared on her cupids bow and to her chin, whilst mascara a vibrant, ebony catastrophe all over her cheeks. To many vacuous imbeciles, her appearance may have been easily confused as a prostitute plucked from the most prominent brothel, developed to the point where it made the most kinkiest fantasies appear as merely vanilla. 

Their shared soireés stated otherwise. Charcoal ink blotted sheets caught the cum and trapped it within its seams, a hasty stain to be scrubbed away during laundry day. But he hadn’t particularly minded much. He just regarded it as another chore to be done. If anything, John just smirked at the remnants that proved of their affairs. Not anymore did he carelessly go from woman to man [keeping her idly as his prized toy], not anymore did he second guess if she truly accepted and loved him. 

He doubted the infatuation he witnessed in literature and films could ever quite compare to how [Y/N] made him yearn so madly and foolishly. Frankly, at times, John felt chagrin flutter in his stomach at his guileless emotions towards her. 

John prepared himself for the awaiting Collapse. Formerly, he would’ve just wished to watch humanity cease and falter by himself, cackling at how hectic they became midst of chaos. During the present, the only one who he wished to remain by his side was [Y/N], the distant screams of suffering souls drowned out behind audible moans and cries of pleasure from his beloved.

He swore his time spent with her carried on so rapidly, swept away from his grasp before John even had the moment to revel within her. Something about the way she would laugh or speak, or by God, even moan, possessed more medicinal value than any drug or spiritual healing. _John, oh John, John_. The mantra of his name emitted from her plump lips did far more to soothe his ego and loins. But John abhorred how those moments, along with their times where they reconciled and bonded, shortly carried on. Days merely felt like brief hours. Despite being incredibly loyal to Joseph’s sect, he coveted to withdraw [Y/N] and himself away from it all. A major factor of that was due to his frenzied and fervent possessive behavior of his sweet honeybear. Sinew among soul torn and stripped because of just swift gazes and interactions. He only believed himself to be worthy of [Y/N]’s existence, treasuring her with gifts, sex, and emotional as well as physical security. 

One of his favored moments that pertained her was almost taken out of a historical painting, perhaps the Naked Maja, but modernized. A cigarette sturdy between her index and middle finger, her bare breasts strut out as her stomach with creases in certain areas. Perhaps it was just the LSD, but John believed [Y/N] to appear most ethereal in cases such as that. 

“Please,” she pleaded with heavy exhales, her spine pressed against the white, smooth altar, “I… I need to—” John interrupted her begging with a bellicose kiss, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip. His thrusts became more slow paced, erection pulsating against your tight walls. 

A teasing grin played his lips, canines baring. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, facial hair tickling her exposed skin. “Tell me what you want, then, honeybear.” John then hovered over her body, observing her movements as if she were his prey. Hungrily, he wished to tear his teeth into her and savour her completely. 

[Y/N] stared right back up at him with those doe [e/c] eyes, lips parting slowly. “I want…” Midst of her sentence, John pushed his member back into her sex with a belligerent thrust. A groan spilled from her lips, her palms gripping John’s chestnut locks of hair, as her other palm traveled to his back. Her nails held onto his skin and tugged, as if she were pleading with him through her mere actions. “I want t-to feel you come inside me, fill me up so much that I…” she took a brief pause to establish her sentence, panting heavily, breath hitched, “see stars.”

His palms returned to [Y/N]’s throat, blazing cerulean irises staring daggers into her frail, hazy [e/c], glassy with lust. John’s thumb pressed onto the violet lovebite planted upon her jugular. “ _Say it_.” It slipped out as a firm demand, both a growl and a hiss that shook her entire core.

She knew he would not maintain his prior fast pace unless she uttered the word, desperate to reach her climax. “ _Yes, John! YES!_ ” [Y/N] bellowed, feeling his member twitch furthermore. His hips callously bruising into her own, not meticulous to handle her being with care. His left hand now gripped at her bust, nails sinking vermillion crescents into her flesh. The right hand brushed through her scalp, then tugging at the ends of her hair. Jesus fucking Christ, the moans that spilled from her mouth could make angels weep. The curve of her waist and the bounce of her bosom could make anyone look like a pathetic mess.

The peggies and men standing outside, guarding the church likely were judging. “Man, if John knocks that girl up, can you imagine what’ll happen? Would the Father be happy, or would he be disappointed?” One of the men snickered, while the other shrugged. “It would make for a helluva story. Hopefully,” he leaned in close to whisper, “it would get him kicked out. He sins more than all of us, it would only be fair.”

Meanwhile, John could feel him reaching his limit, holding her to his chest and staring at her expression once he came. Warmth seeped inside her, as [Y/N] could feel herself reaching her moment as well. She felt herself come undone and wrap her wet sweetness around his length.

He brushed her messy [h/c] locks away from her face, as his finger lightly drifted over her cheek, then to her lips, in a ghostly touch. She sent him a smile, the back of her hand caressing his cheekbone. And that broke his heart just a bit, John remembering sullenly that there would be perhaps a time where she would not be breathing and not staring up at him with her ardor ridden smile. He pulled his warm body away from her own, staggering to find the shedded clothes long forgotten on the floor. Once he found them, John felt the urge to dress her himself. He pulled her panties over her legs, comfortable in the atmosphere where nobody existed, just the two of them. “Let’s head back to the ranch, so I can properly look after and cherish you, my love.” He planted a chaste kiss upon [Y/N]’s lips, trailing the both of them with intertwined fingers back to his Cadillac outside.

Originally, prior to meeting her, John had oh so easily sealed away and repressed his thoughts of melancholy. It proved no challenge when he was far too preoccupied with recruiting for Eden’s Gate or making the protectors and others atone for their diabolical sins. At times, he would allow the thick façade to falter and dissipate around [Y/N]. Seldom did he speak to her about his forlorn feelings, and he only ever recalled one instance where he bawled feebly into her skin. Typically, he would hold her in his embrace and that was enough to nurse the depression away. 

[Y/N] had similar mental insufficiencies, at times she could hear voices that weren’t there or see things. A majority of the time she just brushed it off. She also had mild to severe sadness, sometimes much worse than his own. It fractured John internally when he saw her sob with hot, angry blistering tears. “I cannot be weak and pathetic.” She would remind herself. He wished to learn who had granted her this mindset, so he could haunt them much worse than they haunted his dear [Y/N].

However, he loved her with his entire, present self. He swept her away from her issues and soothed her worries away. John, for once, felt genuinely satisfied and _happy_. He once thought it to be foolish to deem something as love to be pathetic. But now, one of his greatest fears was losing his beloved honeybear, the woman who he supposed, yet knew, he loved.


End file.
